Musings of Love

Have I gone mad? My kith and kin, and friends worriedly ask I'm unable to eat or sleep; I am stressed. I am lost. Defining the meaning of my gestures - is a hard task. Amidst hullabaloos of my fickle fortune, I'm tossed. I want to see her; I want to hear the three-letter word. I want to tell her all about me—my rises and falls. Moments I'm unable to feel her presence, seem absurd. Her voice sounds and resounds within, like the angelic calls. Does the world say I'm old? Nay. I am a transformed eagle. Your silence (purposeful?) yet shakes my very existence. Don't you make as well as Mar as a mythical seagull? Your frankincense scent, I serenely sense from far distance. My entire universe is enraptured by your glance. The constellation of my consciousness stands in a trance.